The Dog Star and the Petty King
by Jaye Black
Summary: Sirius shook his head miserably as his younger brother walked away from him, out of his life for good. Or, as cliché would have it, so he thought. A long oneshot focusing on Sirius and Regulus Black.


**A/N:** Well. I honestly had no intention of writing anything other than Instant Star at the moment, but I got this idea in my head, and Sirius, the bloody annoying git, has been standing beside me poking me in the arm and singing off-key to my music to annoy me into writing his story. So, that is how this came about. Sirius being annoying but too loveable to ignore. I hope this is worth the trouble. Heh. :D

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything in this but my words. JK Rowling is the mastermind behind the characters and settings, as I would hope you all know.

**PS:** Dedicating this to** Padfootatheart**, because I've been torturing her with it for the past few days. Well, now you've got more than "almost", eh? XD

* * *

**The Dog Star and the Petty King**

Three seventeen-year-old boys sat beneath a beech tree on a lazy May afternoon. Clad in loosened red-and-gold ties, grey shirts, and black pants—their Hogwarts uniform, in other words—any shade was gladly welcome.

These boys were James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew—three-quarters of the infamous Marauders. Just as minds started to wonder where the last part of this quartet might be, a raven-haired boy gracefully dropped down from one of the higher branches of the tree, landing on his feet with a thud in front of James.

"Hey, Padfoot, I thought only cats landed on their feet," James teased his friend.

Sirius grinned at him. "Yeah, well, I'm one-of-a-kind, Prongs."

Remus scoffed slightly, not looking up from his book—_Hogwarts: A History. _"I'll agree to that," he said flatly.

Sirius tilted his head and looked at Remus through slightly narrowed eyes. "Moony, mate, you know that you don't have to memorize that book to graduate, right?"

Remus gave him the honor of looking up, only to raise an eyebrow and sink back into his book.

"Padfoot, it's a lost cause," James cut in. "Just leave it."

Sirius laughed in his bark-like way. He shook his head to move his hair from his eyes, and then leaned against the trunk of the tree, folding his arms across his chest. His laughter died softly, leaving a small smile on his handsome face. "It's hard to believe that this is our last week, isn't it?"

"Yeah," James replied, for once looking serious. "It's odd."

"It'll be leaving home," Sirius continued, gazing upon the walls of the castle in the distance.

There was no response from the other three boys. All of them knew how much Sirius meant this. They all knew that Hogwarts had been his only home, and they mostly his only family. They all knew of the scars he carried from the place he should have been able to call home. "Not exactly leaving," James finally said, soft and slow, "just finding a new home."

Sirius grinned again. "Yeah, you're right, I guess."

James took the opportunity to lighten things. "You guess?" he scoffed. "By now you should know that I'm _always _right, Padfoot."

"Except for that one time when—"

"Oy—you promised not to mention that again!"

"My fingers were crossed," Sirius retorted.

"Sirius—weren't you looking for Regulus earlier?" Remus interrupted, looking toward a group of students in green and silver ties walking past.

Sirius's grin faded again. "Yeah." He followed Remus's eyes to the group, where a boy that looked like a fourteen-year-old version of himself stood. "Yeah—er, I'll be back, all right? Don't start working on our big finale just yet."

"You know we won't," James said, rolling his eyes behind his glasses. "Good luck with that, mate."

Sirius stood up straight and walked across the grass, ignoring the dirty looks the Slytherins of the group were giving him. He didn't really have eyes for any of them—except for the young boy, Regulus, his younger brother. The younger Black looked up at his older brother through slate colored eyes.

Moments like these were when Sirius really wondered how people could look so much alike and yet so completely different. Regulus had the same hair-color, hair style, eyes, and face as Sirius himself; but while Sirius normally poured an aura of friendliness and excitement, Regulus had a much darker aura of hatred and coolness. Sirius's slate eyes were open and friendly, while Regulus's had hardened the moment he laid eyes on Sirius. "What do you want?" Regulus asked bluntly in a cold voice.

Sirius flatly responded, "We need to talk…in private."

"Anything you have to say, you can say in front of them," Regulus replied, tilting his head toward the group of sneering students behind him.

Sirius narrowed his eyes slightly. "All right, fine. You remember Mr. Snuffles, Regulus? That ratty old stuffed animal that—"

_"Fine," _Regulus hissed, red coloring his pale features.

Sirius smirked, and then led the way toward a secluded area just out of ear-shot of the Slytherins. "Look," he said, now serious. "I know that we haven't really…got on lately, but…" He was silent for a moment, for once not sure what to say. He pulled a hand through his hair, sighing. "You're still my brother, right? And I just…"

Regulus's gaze had softened slightly—barely noticeable, but enough to give Sirius his confidence back. He pulled a piece of torn parchment from his pocket. "This is where I'm going to be staying," he told Regulus, handing it to him. An address was written in Sirius's messy scrawl. "It'll change when I move somewhere else… So, erm, if you ever get sick of home…you've got a place to stay."

"Why?" Regulus asked. "You hate me."

"No, I don't," Sirius shrugged. "You might've noticed that you're the only Slytherin that hasn't been pranked…by us, anyway. There's a reason for that. You're my brother. And…even if mum and dad aren't my family…I just, er, don't want it to be that way for us."

Regulus did something then that surprised not only Sirius, but the on-looking Slytherins and Marauders as well. (James, who had climbed up on a branch of the beech tree, was so shocked that he fell out, proving that it really is only cats that land on their feet.)

Regulus stepped forward and briefly embraced his older brother, so quickly that it was as if it hadn't happened. When he stepped back, he looked down at the ground to the left of him, avoiding the several pairs of shocked eyes that were watching.

"You don't have to do it," Sirius said, his voice sounding slightly choked now. He hadn't even imagined this. The words slipped out before he had time to realize what he was saying. He'd never meant to go into this. Not now.

"Don't have to do what?" Regulus looked back up at him, slight confusion in his eyes.

"Be a Death Eater," Sirius answered. "Work for…for Voldemort."

The walls behind Regulus's eyes reappeared alarmingly quickly. "That's all this is about, isn't it?" he shot, cold fury in his words. "You think that I'm going to turn my back on the Black family, on the Dark Lord, on what I'm meant to do, all because you offered me a place to stay?" He took a step backwards. "It doesn't work that way, you blood traitor."

His words stung, though Sirius had had them aimed at him more times than he could remember. It had been his name at Number 12 Grimmauld Place. "Blood Traitor", "Mudblood Lover", and of course "That Boy" were common names for him. But Regulus—he'd never been the one to say it. It had always been his parents, his cousins, his aunts and uncles, the portraits in the hallway of that godforsaken house. Never, not once, had Regulus been the one to call him that, no matter how much the two of them tended to anger each other. He'd never crossed that line.

"Regulus—you…" Regulus had turned, and was storming back to his friends. Sirius grabbed him by the arm and turned him around. "You're _not _a murderer, Regulus. You're not going to be able to live up to what they want from you. I know you more than that. You won't do it, and then they'll kill you. If not for me, then do it for yourself—save yourself from that. Just don't do it!"

"I'll do what I want to do, and what I want to do is serve the Dark Lord," Regulus snarled, wrenching his arm away. "Nothing you say will change my mind."

Sirius shook his head miserably as his younger brother walked away from him, out of his life for good. Or, as cliché would have it, so he thought.

* * *

Three years later, Regulus was out of school and into the hands of the Dark Lord. He was constantly living in fear, replaying his last conversation with Sirius—who by now would be twenty—in his mind. His older brother had been right all along. The joke was on him, and now he was trapped, because there was no way out of being a Death Eater. He'd gone in too deep, instead of wisely taking Sirius's advice and getting away while he still could.

One night, Regulus was called to the Dark Lord's side. He kneeled down, bowing to his master, more out of fear than respect. "Stand," the Dark Lord ordered in his cold voice.

Regulus rose to his feet, looking to the terrifying man sitting before him. "You wanted to see me, master?" he offered, forcing his voice to be steady.

"You're here, are you not?" was the cool reply given. "I have an assignment for you."

Regulus mind was spinning. He'd been given tasks before, but never by the Dark Lord in person. Only by higher-up Death Eaters—mostly Severus Snape and his older cousin, Bellatrix. This…this must be something of importance. "Anything, my lord."

"You were given an open invitation to stay with the blood traitor Sirius Black."

Regulus's body went rigid for a moment before he regained control and forced himself to stay calm.

"Go and live with him…and find out everything you can from him about the whereabouts of the Potters."

_The Potters? _Of course he knew of the fact that the Dark Lord was searching for two families—the Longbottoms and the Potters, who had all been at school most of Regulus's stay at Hogwarts. Both families contained young parents and a son born near the end of July of the previous year. Both families had been in hiding for months. That was the extent of the knowledge that had been passed to Regulus. It went much deeper, he knew, but he never dared to try to figure out more.

When you're a seventeen-year-old new recruit, you quickly learn not to ask questions.

And so Regulus did what he knew he had to do, even if it made his heart pound in a guilty way, even if it made him swallow hard and for the millionth time wonder why he'd been so stupid: he bowed once more, replied, "Yes, master", and then went home to pack his bags.

* * *

Sirius sat on the couch in his apartment, watching a spoon float up and down (and up and down and up and down andupanddownandupanddownandupand…) in the darkness through bored eyes. His wand hand was slowly moving in motions parallel to the spoon's, making it move. There honestly wasn't much you could do when you were in hiding. It was a rather dull existence.

Sirius had never really been one to sit still for a great length of time. He'd never been one to hide from the horrors of the world. On the contrary, he had always been one that was up and ready to fight. It was the reason he had gone through the brutal Auror training. It was the reason he'd joined the Order.

Sitting in this house, out in the country, secluded from everything, Sirius was going out of his mind with boredom. He couldn't do much but sit in the dark, entertaining himself with things like floating spoons, occasionally occupied by a visit by one of the other members of the Order; even more rarely allowed to leave to go and check on Lily, James, and Harry.

It was a sacrifice he'd been willing to make. He'd do anything to make sure that his best friend would stay alive. Anything. He just never thought that his sacrifice would be being completely alone and bored out of his bleeding skull every moment of every passing day.

The sound of crackling embers caused Sirius to whip his head around at a speed that put a crick in his neck. The spoon fell to the floor with a clatter. He wasn't particularly nervous—only people that he'd given his address to where able to access his fireplace; a useful trick that he'd learned while looking up information about Secret Keepers. It was more the thrill of the possibility of news in a time when he was so kept in the dark. (Something he didn't really understand—sure, maybe he was one of the younger members of the Order, but he should be kept informed; he could be useful. Right?)

The face he saw in the flames as he peered over the back of his couch was not one of the Order's. It was a face he hadn't seen in years. Sirius stood up, wand back at ready, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "…Regulus?"

His younger brother's face looked up at him from the flames. "Sirius?" He used the same tone of caution as Sirius had. "Er…well…you know how you said if I ever needed a place to stay…?"

Sirius kneeled down in front of the fireplace, letting his guard down a bit. "Yeah?"

"Well…does that…I mean, can I still…?"

Sirius yawned widely, one hand scratching the back of his neck, stalling so that he could make a decision. The boredom in him was screaming, _'Yes! Distraction! Yessssssss!", _but the sensible part of his mind was wondering if he could trust his brother. "Why the sudden change of mind?" he asked finally.

"I…well…you were right." Regulus's eyes were honest. "About everything. About getting in too deep, about me not being able to live up to what…what _he _wants…and I just thought…that maybe it wasn't too late…I mean…" He smiled slightly, only one corner of his mouth lifting. "Just because mum and dad aren't family, doesn't mean it has to be the same for us, right?"

Sirius smiled widely. "Merlin, just get your stuff and hurry up," he said with a slight laugh.

Regulus's head disappeared, and Sirius stood again, moving out of the way of the fireplace. A small part of his mind—which spoke in the voice of Remus—chastised his easy forgiveness, but, as usual, this voice of reason was promptly ignored. Sirius had made a promise to his brother, and he wasn't going to be one to break it. Besides…this way he would have a close tab on the younger Black.

The flames in the fireplace whirled into an emerald color, and Regulus fully appeared out of them, levitating a suitcase behind him. "Thanks," he said, relieved, when the flames died back down to embers. "This…it means a lot."

Sirius nodded, shrugging. "Eh, I might be able to use the company," he admitted, another smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. The two brothers studied each other for a moment.

Sirius thought that Regulus looked much more pale and thin than the last time he'd saw him. Part of his mind—speaking in James's voice—scoffed and said something along the lines of, _"Stop thinking like you're his mum, mate."_

Regulus thought that Sirius looked exactly the same, except taller, older…and the aura he gave off was one of less arrogance and more caution. He could tell just by the way that Sirius held himself that on the outside he may be the same, but inside he had grown up a lot.

"So," Regulus said, breaking the silence between the two. "Where do you want me to put this?"

* * *

Two months later, Regulus was sitting in the kitchen, gulping down a cup of tea, when Sirius burst out of his room, pulling on his jacket. "I'm going to go and check on Peter," he told Regulus. "If I'm not back in two hours, then tell Lily and James."

Regulus nodded absently. In the two months since he'd been given his assignment, he had dutifully been gathering information on the Potters, everything he possibly could, from his trusting older brother. …He'd done nothing with this information. The more he heard about them, the more he realized just how cruel it would be to hand them over to the Dark Lord. _No, _Regulus reminded himself. _Not the Dark Lord. Voldemort. Tom Riddle. I won't bow down to him anymore.. _

Sirius—Sirius had risked a lot by letting Regulus stay with him. He had shown a lot of faith by taking Regulus in. Regulus had decided early on that he would not betray that trust. After hearing Sirius talk so highly of James and Lily, after seeing the way his eyes lit up when he talked about little baby Harry, Regulus couldn't bring himself to do it.

He hadn't gone to…to _Voldemort _since he'd come, praying for the fact that maybe, he would just think that Regulus had been unable to get away, or he'd not found any useful information yet.

But, oh, he had. He knew enough to write a bloody novel about the family. He'd even met them, once. James, a tall, dark haired man with an amusing sense of humor, even in this dark time. Lily, a beautiful, charming, talented woman that Regulus had a hard time believing was a Mudbl—_muggle-born, _he caught himself.

And then, of course, there was little baby Harry, tiny even for his young age, with a shock of his father's hair, and the most brilliant green eyes Regulus had ever seen on anyone but Lily herself.

They were nice, courageous people. Not at all the monsters that the other Death Eaters had made them out to be. No, the Potters were respectable. The Death Eaters, Regulus had come to realize, were the monsters in this situation. _The type of monster that you happen to be, _a part of his mind whispered.

_No, _he responded silently. _The type of monster that I want to fight._

And so he sat there, peacefully drinking his tea, not knowing that with or without his help, his brother's life would be crashing down around him in a matter of hours.

* * *

Two hours later, Regulus was starting to get nervous.

Fifteen minutes later, he picked up the Muggle contraption called a "phone" and punched in the numbers in the order that Sirius had told him to. The accursed thing rang and rang and rang, never ending, never being picked up.

Twenty minutes later, he threw Floo Powder into the fireplace and clearly stated his destination: the headmaster's office at Hogwarts. He stepped into the emerald flames and closed his eyes. (Travel by Floo had always made him feel sick. Keeping his eyes closed at least lessened the feeling.)

He stepped out of the flames and into the extravagantly decorated Headmaster's office, coughing to keep from choking on soot. (He'd never gotten very good at this, after all.) He looked up at the silver-bearded man with glasses and twinkling eyes that was sitting in a large chair behind an equally large desk. "Professor," Regulus coughed. "Professor Dumbledore, I think something's happened Sirius, sir. And, and the Potters."

The elder man stood from his chair, an urgent tone flitting behind his calm mask. "What do you know, Regulus?" he inquired.

"Sirius—he went to go and check on Peter, and he told me to call the Potters if he wasn't back in two hours, because it never takes him more than an hour or so, and after two hours, I called, but no one answered, and I think that something's…that something's…wrong…" He trailed off, realizing that his words didn't seem to make much sense outside of his mind. "I—I think _he _might have found them, Professor…"

Regulus had never before looked up to Dumbledore. He had always thought him to be mad, as his family had taught him. He had never realized that Dumbledore was not, in fact, off his rocker, until he had begun living with Sirius. Sirius had told him all about Dumbledore. This was not Regulus's first meeting with Dumbledore the Headmaster, but it was the first time he'd seen Dumbledore the Saint, the Wise, the Protector. It was the first time that he'd seen the only man to ever strike fear into the heart of Voldemort.

"I will send Hagrid to check on the Potters," Dumbledore said grimly. "But Regulus—I need you to find your brother."

Regulus nodded mutely before vanishing back into the flames.

* * *

Regulus found Sirius the next day, in the middle of a street full of muggles, cornering a man that Regulus vaguely remembered as Peter Pettigrew. Just as he was about to run forward, pull Sirius away, the street began to explode like it had been lit up with mind fields.

Regulus completely forgot everything he'd learned at Hogwarts in those few moments and settled for the ever-useful spell of Swear-and-Run. The world was raining down on him as he sprinted out of the way of the explosion, throwing his arms up over his head.

Through the space between his arms, he could see asphalt and blood falling from the sky. He could see muggles, their bodies broken and shredded, on the ground; some were screaming, but most were horribly, sickeningly quiet. Above all of this, he could see Sirius, standing there, completely unharmed, staring at the now-empty space before him.

The shock had not yet worn off of Regulus when a chill went through him, despite the heat of the flames the explosion had caused. His entire body had gone numb, and he felt himself start to shake. A feeling of dread was knotting in his stomach. Two horrid, black-cloaked monsters were gliding down the street…Dementors.

_Crack, crack, crack, crack…_

What seemed to be almost every Auror on duty was apparating onto the scene. _Too late, _Regulus's mind supplied him, wry. _Too late, too late, too late…_

One of the Aurors shouted out, "_Expelliarmus!" _Sirius's wand flew out of his hand, and he stumbled back a few feet, landing on the ground. The look of surprise finally wore off of Sirius's expression, as if that was the only thing he'd needed to snap him out of his trance.

Regulus expected him to shout.

To explain what had happened.

To maybe even just apparate away.

What he did was most definitely not what anyone would have expected. He laughed. He laughed in a way that was so different from his normal, bark-like laughter that it sent the chills further down Regulus's spine. He laughed hysterically, with his eyes furious and filled with realization.

Two of the Aurors ran forward and grabbed Sirius by the arms. Sirius just went along with it, still laughing in that chilling way. Regulus couldn't make himself move. He couldn't shout out to the Aurors that, no, Sirius would _never _kill all those people, that Sirius wouldn't have killed anyone, that it wasn't Sirius's fault...it was like someone had forced his mouth shut, though no one in the condition to do so had caught on to the fact that Regulus was there.

The Aurors dragged Sirius over to the Dementors. The Dementors vanished, fading slowly, taking Regulus's brother—the only person that Regulus had—with them.

Regulus could not move until several minutes later. His mind was still not processing exactly what he had seen. All he knew was that his brother was gone, the Potters were most likely dead if Sirius had gone this crazy, and that at the root of all of this was Voldemort. It was the only way. No one would've meant the Potters harm if it hadn't been for Voldemort's insistence that they be found and killed. No one would've ever touched them.

When the anger boiling up inside of him finally cleared his mind, Regulus let out a furious shout. "I'm going to kill him," he growled to no one. "I'm going to find out everything I can about him and I am going to _destroy him!" _

Breathing heavily and seeing through smoldering slate eyes, Regulus disapparated. He was not seen for nearly a year…and by then he was naught but a corpse with a smile on his face, for he had done his duty. He had destroyed a vital part of Voldemort's soul, and when Voldemort went to retrieve it, he would find a note that read: _"To the Dark Lord: I know I will be dead long before you read this, but I want you to know that it was I that discovered your secret…"_

* * *

Sirius sat in his cell, blankly staring at the walls as he struggled to remember the one thing that kept him sane: _I'm innocent. I'm innocent. I'm innocent…_

"I'll kill him!" The shriek came from the cell beside him. Bellatrix Lestrange, Sirius's most _beloved, _most _charming, _most _perfectly sane _cousin. The sick higher-ups had thought it fun to line all the Blacks up on one side of Azkaban. The side left for Death Eaters and murderers and the scum of the earth. _Figures that I'm the one that ends up here, then, _he thought dryly. _The family that slays together, stays together, I think the saying is…_

_No. Innocent. I'm innocent. I'm innocent…_

"That traitor! That scum!" Her voice was in hysterics. She had Sirius's interest. (It has been previously stated that Sirius was never one to be content with sitting still for to long. Never one for boredom. Any news was interesting news around here.) "He _killed _him!"

"Killed who?" came another shout, this one more distant, deeper. Bellatrix's husband, Rodolphus. _Murdering scum._

_Just like you._

_I'm innocent. I'm innocent…_

"My _cousin! _My only cousin!" Bellatrix's voice was choked. _Oh, poor Bella. It's almost as if she has _feelings. _Almost as if she's not a—wait. Cousin? Only cousin? _"Regulus! Snape _killed _him! Regulus did what he was supposed to—he got all the information we needed off of the blood traitor, and Snape still _killed him!_"

Sirius's mind went numb. _Regulus… Death Eater… Dead… Killed… Snape…_ _No, no, no, no…_

It had all been a trick. A trick to get to Lily and James. Sirius shook his head in disbelief, not taking his eyes off of the one spot on the wall that he'd been staring at for the past _year. _No. No, this couldn't be real… Regulus had never cared? Regulus had only been using him? He'd dared to play Sirius for a fool, and sell out the two people that meant the most to him?

_No, you sold out Lily and James…_

_No, I didn't… I'm innocent…I'm innocent…I'm innocent…_

* * *

**A/N:** All right! Wow, that was long. Well, I'm rather proud of this, actually, and I don't say that too often. I hope that y'all liked this. I think Sirius is content with it. He's stopped badgering me. Anyway, if you liked it, if you didn't, if you think I'm completely insane for having a fictional character annoy me into writing this, then drop a review. It would be much loved. Just tell me what you think. ;) 


End file.
